In the luxurious hotel suite, the suggestive atmosphere had yet to fade, and the flush still lingered on Xia Lin's face.
Beneath her fair, delicate skin, hot blood surged—truly rosy beneath the white.
She lay in Wang Yan's arms and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I believe it now. Yang Xiaoyun didn't lie to me."
Wang Yan exhaled a puff of smoke and tapped the ash into the ashtray on the bedside table. "Maybe it's talent."
"Mm. No wonder Yang Xiaoyun won't leave you, and Mila follows you so devotedly."
"Your thinking is too narrow-minded. This sort of thing is just a little spice in life. If you think it's entirely because of this, then you're wiping out the feelings between us."
"Then do you have feelings for me?"
"More or less, a little."
"Then what would it take for it not to be just a little?"
"Probably for there to be a lot more."
"Pervert." Xia Lin coquettishly scolded him, lightly patting Wang Yan's well-developed chest.
Then she let out a sigh. "Looking back now, I really must have been blind to fall in love with Lu Tao at first sight. I should have realized long ago that he was a born womanizer, always eating from his bowl while eyeing the pot. Everyone had to revolve around him for him to be happy.
"He isn't as straightforward as you, nor does he have your sense of responsibility. And he certainly doesn't have your abilities. I feel like he has no clear idea of his own worth—his eyes are higher than his skills, his ambitions bigger than his fate."
"I can tell he really pissed you off." Wang Yan shook his head with an amused smile.
"He's absolutely disgusting. Who does something like that? He went wild downstairs from